


Father, Forgive My Sins

by Thurisazetraido



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Altar fucking, Alternate Universe - Religious, Because of religious titles, Body Worship, Boot Worship, Choking, Confessions, Credence Barebone Gets a Hug, Credence Barebone Needs a Hug, Finger Sucking, First Time Blow Jobs, I apologise to the Catholic church, I don't know, I listened to hellfire too often, I never knew that I would need such tags, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, It kinda had plot tho, M/M, Mass Servant Credence, Mentions of Blood, Misuse of amen, Misuse of everything, Misuse of prayers, Misuse of the our father, Not Really Incest, Original Percival Graves is a Softie, Perspective swapping deluxe, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Priest Percival Graves, Redemption, Rimming, SO, Smut, Spanking, Step on him, The Author Regrets Everything, basically smut with religious symbolism, but it could be seen as fake incest, he does, i am trash, i guess, oh sweet lord, praying, tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-28 16:09:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10834707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thurisazetraido/pseuds/Thurisazetraido
Summary: He leaned into his touches like a child, starving and looking for absolution and Graves was more than ready to give him that and anything else he might have wanted.





	1. Chapter 1

"Credence. Wait for me, my boy.", Father Graves called out, his voice gentle and quiet as always. Credence liked that. Father Graves was patient, touched him gently and never shouted at Credence. He liked it more than he should have....

Credence waited near the choir pillars for the older man to catch up, half in the shadows. It was well past the morning mass, sun already shining through the colourful glass of the church, painting Credence's form and white skin in pale colours. Father Graves couldn't shake the thought, of how the soft red and purple looked like bruises as he came nearer. The boy, devoted and soft, had caught his eyes before he had offered his services to the church. His mother, an ungodly woman, Graves thought, had probably pressured him to become mass servant, yet Credence always wore a gentle smile during the prayers and his work and it enraptured Graves. The whole being of this young man did, to be precisely.  
He leaned into his touches like a child, starving and looking for absolution and Graves was more than ready to give him that and anything else he might have wanted.

"My boy, did you like the sermon this morning?", A heavy and warm hand came down to lie on Credence's shoulder and he couldn't suppress a shudder. It was pleasant, the warmth spreading throughout his body, unlike ma's cold touches.  
"Yes, Father. It was beautiful.", It truly had been, about love and forgiveness and somehow, Credence felt like every word had been for him and him alone. His eyes on the rough stone floor, head bowed.  
"My son?", Father Graves' voice was close, closer than before and then a hand found it's way under Credence's chin. Suddenly he looked up, blinded by the light for a second, focus on the handsome face of the older man. A sudden shiver let Credence shake and he opened his mouth, but the words wouldn't come out.  
"Father... Father, I'd like to confess.", He whispered, nearly falling to his feet right there and then. Father Graves' features softened and he stroked over Credence's cheek.  
"I am sure there is no need that you confess, my boy.", The smile on his lips was too much and Credence could feel tears welling up in his eyes.  
"Please. Father. Please, I need to confess or I am afraid I might burn.".

Graves had rarely seen such desperation as the boy's face wore right now and so he took him away. Away from the nave. Away from prying eyes and into his study. 

 

Credence found himself on his knees, rosary digging into this hand, before Father Graves. How had he lost God's path so fast? Every thought of the older man sending hellfire into his veins.  
"Father, I have sinned. For I desire... Desire the sins of the flesh. For I disobey his Lord. For I can't be cleaned again. Father, please. I feel myself getting tempted and do nothing against it.".  
He had no control anymore, tears running down his cheeks, body heaving with sobs and hands shaking, blood trickling down the marbles where the sharp edges had cut into his palms.  
Graves had never seen a vision like that and he just knew one solution to end this suffering of this magnificent young man.  
"Credence. Listen to me. Listen to me alone, yes? God is forgiving. You are a faithful servant to him and his people on Earth. You've been nothing but an enrichment and blessing to me.", His hand found its way to the thin neck of the boy, squeezing gently. And with that, the spell was broken just to reveal a new curse.  
Credence looked up. "Teach me, Father. Teach me how to serve and to earn forgiveness. Teach me, Father, how to please the Lord through you.", Was his whispered response and Graves would be damned, but those dark eyes and those lips, red and plush, begging him. This boy would be his purgatory. He bowed down and pressed a kiss to Credence's forehead. 

He felt like Judas, revealing the true saint to the devils with a simple kiss, but never had he felt so good in the same breath.  
"Credence, I will teach you, yes? Will teach you how to be good and to serve and how to please your Lord. I will teach you the best I can and I will teach you anything, you are willing to learn.", He knew, he signed the contract with the Devil in those words. He knew, he would take this perfect, innocent boy with him. Way down.

Pure bliss overcame Credence at Father Graves' words. He leaned into the hand on his cheek blindly, not able to form a word. But there were no words needed, the hand on his neck, strong and warm, guiding him. Whereto didn't matter to Credence, he trusted Father Graves. And so he didn't question the soft kisses on his cheeks and jaw, he breathed in relief, head swimming. He welcomed the lips on his, chasing them when they pulled away, for they meant his rescue.  
"How would you like a communion, my boy? Just for you?", and Credence could do nothing but nod, hands now resting on the floor, the rosary forgotten. He felt hunger, not the twinge in his abdomen when Ma forbid dinner, but a different kind. One he never felt before.  
Lips pressed against his and it felt like his christening, the first breath after being pure and he could do nothing but gasp, hands searching blindly and curling into Father Graves' robe. He was burning out and nothing but the man could save him.

It was fire in his veins, a need he hadn't known since his teenage years. Graves couldn't withstand, instead he pulled the boy closer. It was an embrace, shared like their breaths, the kiss unholy as the traitor to the Lord. And suddenly he was thirsting. He knew the communion wine couldn't quench it. He knew and so he took the only well near. Credence, the boy in his arms, blind with need.  
Graves stood, his hand never leaving the pale cheek and suddenly, he wanted to leave his mark. Silently, he opened his robe, looking down at Credence. He would give his boy absolution. A quiet Amen was heard, before willing lips fell open and Graves found himself begging.  
"My boy, you are doing so good. So perfect, without sin and yet here you kneel. You are my blessing and my downfall. You make me feel like Lucifer, Credence. You are make me Eve in the Eden. You make me sinner.", He couldn't hold back those words and every new comparison made Credence sob with shame and guilt. And arousal.  
The boy was painfully hard in his black dress pants, a wet spot already in the front. The moan of the boy, as Graves' shoe touched him through his clothes, felt heavenly. The needy breaths, the sobs, the moans and little rolls of the boy's hips against his foot. Graves could feel himself in Credence's mouth, under his palm on his cheek. And it felt too good to be right, yet he'd rather burn an eternity than missing this.  
"My boy. My beautiful boy, here you are on your knees, serving the Lord's man. Aren't you proud? Honored? Doing such a good job.".  
Credence was glad, that he was full. Otherwise he wouldn't have been able to muffle most of his awful noises. Father Graves' voice sounded so broken and his words made him shiver with want. Arching into the hard shoe on his lap, Credence whimpered, before Father Graves was suddenly gone. Blindly, he scrambled after him, before the hand had returned on his cheek. "Open your mouth, my boy.", A finger was on his lips and pressed inside his mouth, gently opening his mouth, tugging on the corner of his mouth, mimicking a kiss. Finally seeing, Credence pressed his cheek into Father Graves' hand and looked up the man, awaiting his blessing. He closed his eyes and wrapped his lips, stretched and red around the thumb in his mouth, the deep moan of the man pulling him back.  
"Open, Credence.", Came the command and his lips fell apart by themselves. 

Graves' couldn't believe, that he had brought an angel to his knees, but as he came, painting the pale skin even a shade brighter, he suddenly had to. The boy was a gift, swallowing hastily and looking at him again, white stripes on his cheeks and lips. Too beautiful and perfect, not even trying to touch himself, even though he needed release so badly. "Open your pants, my boy. Show me what you need.", it came out harsher than he wanted, sharp and like an order. Yet the boy just opened his pants, pulling them down with his underwear and Graves forgot how to breath for a second. The white shirt and white skin and the flushed dark red against black pants. The boy was gorgeous, even though he looked like Sodom and Gomorrah.

Father Graves' shoe touched him once more, this time directly and Credence couldn't keep himself from moaning, head thrown back and cheeks red. "Father, please. I need to serve you. Need to...", His pleasure grew too big to keep on talking. He felt like he'd never felt before.  
"Father, please. Amen.", Credence whispered, closing his eyes, before...

Graves marvelled at the boy, arching and keening underneath him. Too good to be true and too handsome. And he was falling into the pits of hell and Graves would burn for him, the black of his shoe now spoiled like his soul. If it hadn't been for Credence, shivering and leaning forward, tongue pressed against the black leather. Licking up the mess he had made, before sitting back, eyes on him.  
"You did so well, Credence. Serving a man of God like that.", Graves knew, he didn't deserve to say those words, but they fell out of his mouth and into Credence's open heart. He knew, the boy was saved for now.


	2. Our Father

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the rich feedback, I would have never expected that.   
> To warn you about this chapter,  
> I basically wrapped up one-shots and tiny segments to a whole thing. They might not follow the time line. I am awfully sorry for my inability to write coherent stuff with more than 1500 words

**Our Father, Who art in heaven**

Credence didn't feel so sure about that anymore. If heaven hadn't fallen down to Earth and his senses didn't betray him, the Father was nearer. So close and Credence gave a moan as the desk pressed into his hips...

**Hallowed be Thy Name;**

"Father, please...", if it hadn't been for the hand on his chest, Credence was sure, he would have fallen apart. "Lord, please.", the pleas tumbling from his lips, mixing with sweet blasphemy.

**Thy kingdom come,**

A sob rang through the study and Father Graves felt like a king, this gentle boy at his feet. This saint. This angel at his knees, hair like a dark halo hiding his eyes. Prayers on his lips, as he came undone. Father Graves felt like a king and Credence was his kingdom.

**Thy will be done,**   
**on earth as it is in heaven**

"Credence, I need you to do this for me, my boy.", a hand on his forehead, purifying with the cross not moments before. A thumb on his lips and then finally lips on his neck. And all he could do, was moan and say "Yes, Father, anything."

**Give us this day our daily bread,**

-The host on his lips was dry and sweet and Credence knew, this wasn't what he needed or wanted. It was a sin, to be ungrateful or want. But God, Credence wanted more, a burning desire turning him to sin every new day.-

**and forgive us our trespasses,**

"Father. I have sinned.", Those words whispered against his robe. They had started a flame in Graves and he knew, he had to bring his boy back to glory. A hand around his throat, skin already reddening. Silently, tears had started running down Credence's cheek and Graves almost expected them to be made from blood. No sound fell from the lips of his boy, nothing but a gentle gasp, as air and the Lord's Grace returned to him. "You earned forgiveness, my good boy."

**as we forgive those who trespass against us;**

Sometimes, Graves could see, how he led the boy from the light. How his mother became suspicious. And yet, he couldn't seem to care. And when Credence offered his belt, a punishment Graves never had considered, he could do nothing, but fall to his knees and pray for his boy. His young man and worship him.

**and lead us not into temptation,**

-"Seven.", Credence cried out, his body trembling on Graves' lap. He hadn't meant to touch himself, he promised with downcast eyes. But Father Graves couldn't let this slip. His hand stung, yet Credence must hurt more. He pulled the shaking boy into his arms, a kiss to his temple. "Be good and follow God's path, my boy."

**but deliver us from evil.**

Graves took the boy in as soon as he could. Free him from the beast he called mother. That's the reason, he always told himself. It was a lie and he knew, as the boy's lips closed around his thumb, mouth so warm and soft. Greedy, no, needy licks and sucking gently and Graves knew he was gone, just pressing in deeper, cherishing the soft moans spilling from his boy.

 _ **Amen**_.

"Credence, what are you reading?", the deep voice of Father Graves nearly made him turn. Credence had locked the doors and now stood bent over the altar, reading in the open Bible. "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.", Credence whispered, not daring to turn around. "1 John 1:9. What a curious boy you are.", Came as answers, this time closer and then a hand was on his hips and on his neck and Credence pressed his chest against the cold stone, eyes on the Bible. A thumb rubbed over his neck, making him shiver. "Continue, my boy.", It was a dark purr in his ear and then teeth worried over his shoulder. "If we claim...Father... we have not sinned...", Credence whispered, lips and teeth bruising his skin, finally low enough to brush over the collar. Moans mingled with verses. "...we make him out to be a liar...Please, Father. Please.", his begging was heard, fingers trailing down his spine, opening his belt and tugging down his pants. "...And... Please, Father. Oh God. Lord. Please... His word...", he was spread, a tongue pressing inside him. Words nearly left him and Credence wanted to keen and arch, but was breathless, held down but firm and gentle hands. "...is, please. Father. I can't...", The slap hit him unprepared and his hips pressed against the cold stone. "Continue, my boy. You want to be good, don't you?", Father Graves asked, as he stood again, turning Credence around. "You want to be holy, my boy? Then continue.", His hand, usually folded in prayer, giving blessing to sinner, now wrapped around Credence's cock and the boy gave a quiet whine, head falling back. "..Is not... Please more, Father... Not in us.", The verse had ended, finally and never had Credence been more relieved. A kiss pressed on his mouth, a treat and he felt faint, yet so good.   
"1 Peter 4:8, my boy.", It felt like divine order and even if pleasure threatened to overwhelm him, Credence opened his mouth. "Above all, love each other deeply...", a sigh interrupted the quote, his shirt fell to the floor, joined by Father's black robe, teeth scrapping over his shoulder and sucking underneath the collar.  
"... Because love covers over a multitude... Oh, Father, please.", It sounded like a prayer in his ears, yet he knew it to be so much more. Lowered down on the robe over the altar steps, covered by Father Graves, he felt so safe.   
"...Of sins. _Amen_.", The older man completed for him, stroking over his chest, making him ache and want.  
And Credence could do nothing but to give into the pleasure and moan " _Amen_."

**Author's Note:**

> So, I cooked up this sinful stuff during my awful obsession with Hellfire from the Hunchback of Notre Dame and talks with a friend. (Theo, thanks for bringing me back to writing after so long)  
> I will either make this a series with drabbles and shorter glimpses of their life or throw everything in here. What would you like better?


End file.
